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Chance hadn’t ever considered the possibility of committing to a relationship at all.
In fact, it was much more preferable to spend his time with slot machines in casinos he regularly frequented, or gamble away recklessly by the tables or booths. He’d always win anyways…most of the time. However, Lady Luck didn’t appear to be on his side tonight, rooting for his failure as he looked at his deck of cards in a scrutinized manner.
His eyes flit up, only to meet them across the larger opponent before him, encased around an extravagant fur collar that slid past his shoulders, draping down to the floor effortlessly. Dark, leather gloves idly caressed the edges of the poker cards, a low, content hum thrumming against the mafia’s throat. Long, jet-black bunny ears that didn’t fit his attire whatsoever hung floppily against his shoulders. Despite the adorable features that accustomed him, his appearance wasn’t any less menacing. Brooding, velvet eyes covered by the shadow of a silken fedora, flicked up to meet the gambler’s own gaze, a composed yet deceptive grin tugging at his lips as if he had already predicted the outcome of this match. The air grew heavier. Silent tension filled the atmosphere. Chance’s fingers flexed tightly as he innerly prayed to Lady Luck to bless him for tonight, since losing to this mob boss would be utterly humiliating.
“My turn.”
That gruff, thick, Italian tone instantly sent his mind back into the game, snapping him out of his inner thoughts to dart his eyes across the table, Mafioso’s curt statement having sliced the palpable air easily. The large figure leaned closer towards the edge, moving like a shadow wrapped in silk before his torso pressed right up against the table, from adrenaline or simply to emphasize his winning hand.
Chance’s breath held between his lungs as his eyes watched those skilled fingers glide across the table, elegantly sliding forth the deck of cards to present a beautiful royal flush. The figure before him then slowly slid back and away from the table, basking in his victory whilst crossing his arms against his chest to admire his handiwork.
The loser, on the other hand, could only place down his cards against the fuzz with a relented sigh, covering up his disappointment with a charming smile before clapping his hands together. Due to his cockiness, he may have had..bet all his chips into the prize pool and gone all in, but nonetheless had plenty to spare anyways and didn’t want to make a fuss, especially with the man before him. He raised a hand up to instead, congratulate the fellow and patted him on the shoulder like he were some rabid animal, having still kept his distance away from the looming figure.
“Ha! You’ve seriously outplayed me this time! I guess learning from the best really does help ya improve, hm?” Chance quipped out, eyes staring back at the mafia’s. Then, the most subtle, smallest movement caught his attention.
The slow, slinking of his head urging itself forwards.
“Of course, gambler. Therefore, it’s only right I thank you for helping me improve.” Mafioso stated lowly, his shadowed gaze darting across Chance’s features, taking them in with deep admiration. Of course, the man beneath him was taken aback, a flicker of surprise crossing his features.
“Oh? What a surprise! The Great Mafioso thanking me?” Recovering quickly, he flashed a somewhat charming grin, tone full of banter as he took a step back.
Despite the distance Chance had purposefully tried to make, the other seemed awfully keen to close that gap.
Before Chance could even react, the imposing Mafia had swiftly curled round his fingers and snatched the man’s wrist between his hand, thick digits wrapping around the tender skin like it was nothing. The blaring lights of the casino suddenly dimmed. The scenery shrouded itself in silence. Chance instantly grew alarmed at the action, frenzied eyes covered behind his shades darting back and forth from his trapped hand to Mafioso’s eyes. Did he seriously want to rub his victory in his face now?
Then he felt it.
Fingers.
Long, slender digits sneaking around, completely unannounced, before skimming across his back to drag up his spine. Chance’s breath faltered entirely, thinning out into shallow breaths as his eyes blinked at the man before him. This was different. Mafioso had never made any sort of move to connect them this close together, and had always opted to respectfully keep his distance.
Was he thinking straight? Hell, he wanted to demand an explanation.
“Just what in the world are you-“ However, just as his mouth was already spilling out the words, Mafioso had already cut him off with his own rough voice, steady and composed. Almost instantaneous the moment Chance spoke. Like it was on purpose.
“Tell me, Chance. What purpose does gambling hold to you? Why go all in when you know you’re going to lose?” Mafioso enunciated each word slowly, rolling each syllable against his tongue as if to emphasize them. He even made his point across by flicking his eyes at the prize pool, stacked with piles and piles of brightly coloured chips. Mostly from Chance.
Chance blinked back, having not expected such words to escape the man’s lips. He contemplated over this thoughts, choosing to ignore how blatantly the mafia had dismissed his question and answer anyways.
The touch still lingered however, his breaths thinning out.
“Oh please…there’s no problem in taking risks!” Chance declared, voice wavering just slightly through his breath, using every strength of his willpower to completely disregard the slow advancement of the looming figure. “What’s the thrill if nothing’s at stake? It ain’t exciting!” He added on, waving his hands about, appearing nothing but ridiculous. It greatly amused Mafioso.
The hand behind slid higher, splaying against the suit before it reached the back of Chance’s neck, fingers weaving to gently wrap around it. This earned him a short gasp in return from the man, feeling the body beneath stiffen up entirely as the hairs on his skin pricked up. Chance even flinched, feeling oddly sensitive at the sensations rippling through his body and down his spine, trying to arch his neck away from the ironclad grip. Had the loss prior cause his shame to skyrocket?
Delicate. Vulnerable.
The words Mafioso himself would describe for such supple skin laid out for him. It was hard to draw his hand away, wanting it all for himself, not caring if he was blatantly obvious about it or not.
“Oh..? Interesting. So you prefer excitement? Risks?” He responded back peculiarly, tilting his head to the side, eyes fixed on his neck. A dark, hunger swirled behind his eyes, masked by his composed features as his smile only rose further.
He could make use of this.
Chance hadn’t had a single clue as to what he was exactly insinuating, before giving a small nod of his head. He wasn’t usually one for silence, always talking up a storm with anyone around him, yet he wasn’t able to articulate a proper response for the man. It just didn’t feel right. At the same time, he began cautiously tugging back his still bound hand towards himself, noting the snake-like grip that followed in pursuit afterwards. Mafioso didn’t want to let go for some reason, and it made his head whirl with confusion.
“You uh..gonna let go?” Chance finally spoke up, glancing at the bound wrist once more before feeling the grip tighten significantly, almost as if it held a sense of longing.
“Should I?” Mafioso almost seemed lost in thought, distracted as his tone lowered, almost rough.
Mafioso had no intention as to whatsoever, brewing a multitude of ideas as to receiving a more delightful and expressive response from the man beneath instead. He settled with light touches at first, pinching and massaging soothingly at the back of his neck, before curling his hand to glide around to the front of his Adam’s apple. He pressed on it lightly with his thumb, tracing around the protrusion almost affectionately, feeling the thick swallow that followed from the gambler. Cute. He couldn’t ask for better. The touch was burning to Chance, igniting even the smallest of nerves to light up across his body. That was before he attempted to weakly smack his hand away to dismiss and crush down the electrifying feeling.
Mafioso relented however, giving him the smallest hint of mercy by eventually letting go, even if his fingers still brushed and lingered by the skin just for a second longer.
“Not a big fan of it? Thought you liked excitement, Chance.” Mafioso murmured out curtly, his other hand still grasped around the gambler’s wrist.
“Course’ I do! But I uh..thought we were talking about y’know..excitement from winning it big! Or hoping to anyways..” Chance’s voice stammered, trailing off, wondering what the hell the mafia had in mind.
He knew damn well for sure, but refused to entertain the idea that HIM of all people he’s faced viewed him in such a way. It almost made his cheeks burn at the thought. Then, the gambler briskly shut his eyes, needing just a moment to collect his thoughts and calm himself. It felt required to shroud himself in darkness before he could even face the mafia boss again. That was all before he sensed a shift of movement in front of him. A soft rustle. Barely noticeable at first.
The feeling of his wrist getting dragged came after.
Then lips.
Mafioso had nestled himself into Chance’s wrist without giving any indication, gloved fingers slipping under the other’s to expose the hidden skin beneath. Plush yet chapped lips drifted across the expanse of skin with heated reverence, as if he were worshipping a priceless artifact. Taking a whiff, sweet yet tempting aromas invaded Mafioso’s lungs, dewdrop and cinnamon most notably. His breathing grew shallow in an instant. Less stable and steady.
This instantly sent a shot of arousal through Chance, fingers twitching helplessly beneath the mob bosses’s grasp, the scene alone making his heart thump as if he had just ran a mile. His feelings begun to sway, body light as the sensations similar to floating washed over him. This was completely uncharacteristic for the usually reserved and distant man, and Chance even wondered if he was even sober, speechless before Mafioso filled the silence.
“Eyes on me. I want to savor the sight of them.” Muffled words spoke tenderly into the skin, his tone vibrating across the entire length of the arm as half-lidded eyes glinted beneath the shadows to look directly at the pretty sight before him. “And besides, “ he continued further, “I wish to provide a different kind of exciting experience with you, rather than play silly card games…” before emphasizing his words with another tender kiss, now against his palm.
Chance’s cheeks were now tinted with a gentle, soft hue of red, eyes struggling to meet Mafioso’s in return. This was wrong. Absurd. He couldn’t-
Yet how could he deny him?
“Allow me to indulge you for a night. Just one. Doesn’t have to be any more.” Mafioso whispered breathlessly against Chance’s palm, tone persistent yet pleading. His voice was muffled by the skin as he further dragged his lips to brush against the base of his fingers, practically worshipping him as his ears twitched eagerly. Chance, meanwhile, couldn’t find the willpower to move away, chewing at his bottom lip woodenly as he observed the scene unfolding before him.
“A night? W-With…me? You’re asking a helluva lot after winning!” Chance croaked out, his voice almost like a whine if not for him trying to steady it. He hadn’t intended to avoid it, yet the words tumbled out his throat anyways.
“Is that..a no?” Mafioso felt his own voice crack. His gaze dropped down to the floor in an instant, lips ceasing all movements entirely to instead purse as they remained rooted to Chance’s skin. His heart clenched tightly at the words, eyes slowly drifting up to look him in the eye, grip tightening to borderline painful before it eased at once. Were his advancements too forward?
Too direct?
His shoulders dropped, long black ears drooping as he slowly and reluctantly slipped himself away. The idea of rejection hurt. The silence stretched. Swiftly fixing the gloves, his arms went to hang limply by his side, fingers rigid as he suppressed his emotions. He was a mafia boss for God’s sake. They aren’t supposed to feel.
But why did it sting so much…?
Mafioso remained contemplative in thought, eyes only snapping up when the sudden haul of the other’s hand snatched him. Guiding him back.
“Never said no…So long as I get to keep the money.” That last part was merely an afterthought to Chance, clearly joking about in a humorous tone, shoulders lax like he hadn’t just agreed to something intimate. It almost seemed outrageous, how his heart fluttered yet fought over the instincts screaming in outrage at the same time. Burying it deep down, he even offered a loose grin to the man, tilting his shades down to meet their gazes directly. Mafioso’s breath faltered completely, as if he was on a chokehold.
A beat.
“Deal.”
The response was athirst, expressed with haste and no hesitation whatsoever. Those floppy, downturned ears had instantly sprung back to life, flicking here and there whilst the owner had instantly perked right back up. His usually professional and mature exterior had almost shattered before the gambler, the singular word already having left his lips with fervour. His nose even twitched.
Yet despite that, Mafioso hastily masked back his firm and collected exterior, jaw tightening as the realization dawned upon him.
That he was letting his feelings seep through clear as day.
Chance had obviously noticed the plain switch up, eyes softening at the sight. How could a mafia boss of all people still resemble such an adorable rabbit?
He let out a suppressed snort.
“Pft, I was just joking, bud! You can take the money. After all, you won it fair and square.” A flick of his hand showed Mafioso just how casual Chance really was to losing money, careless and reckless as always.
His attitude and aloof nature was, despite endearing, rather irritating when you’ve just proposed to spend a night together. Treating this like a business meeting was practically insulting to Mafioso.
“Your value weighs much more than those stacks of chips, Chance. What I really want is you. Not the money.” The mafia simply shook his head, words scratching against the air sharply. He took a few step closer, polished, leather shoes clacking against the marble floor to kill the distance between them. His hands had already shot out almost desperately to regain the heat of Chance’s body, greedily encompassing them around the expanse of his waist. The feel of them calmed him immensely.
“Alright, alright! As I’ve said, I’ll take up on your offer!”
The slender ears twitched at the sudden words. Chance’s fingers swam through the air before they reached their destination, that being Mafioso’s hands. Making quick work of removing them from his waist, the pair had instead intertwined, warmth emanating from each other. Mafioso’s eyes could only widen at the sight unraveling before him.
They fit perfectly.
And before he even knew it, Chance had already begun guiding the bunny hybrid across the entirety of the dimly lit casino. From there, they passed by strangers alike, some too busy hitting the slots, whilst others gave the two bizarre brows. It's not everyday you see an intimidating mafia get dragged away like nothing, much less by another man who looks like lifting would be a struggle. Well, of course he could lift, but still.
"What about the money?" Mafioso blinked out, still clearly perplexed as the casino tables gradually shrunk and faded out of view. His calm and collected tone had almost dropped, trying to wrap his head around what the gambler could possibly be thinking.
"Who cares about some cash?" Chance's steps hadn’t halted whatsoever, pace still consistent as he continued leading Mafioso to somewhere completely arcane. "I'll easily earn it back." His voice held an air of confidence, though the tint of a soft flush still graced his cheeks.
Was he seriously putting on a brovado now of all times?
It felt pointless to hide his hidden panic beneath the cool exterior. The mere exchange of heat between their hands had already caused a sharp, electrifying current to run through his body. The entanglement of their fingers spread their warmth across each other. Not to mention, he was still trying to recover from the previous kisses planted across his hand, the tingling sensations still ever so present.
Of course, the doubt radiated off of Mafioso’s very being, gaze tilted towards the man skeptically before deciding not to prod any further.
Continuing on, the silence was almost deafening, if not for the disruptive chimes and whirs of the buzzing machines that beamed flashing neon lights in their faces. Chance practically struggled to keep his head clear, music blaring through the casino if not for the accustomed headphones that were propped against his head. Mafioso, on the other hand, was awfully distressed. Expression completely soured. His hands were occupied with either holding Chance’s or covering his sensitive ears.
The entire walk felt like they were getting stabbed and ground into fine powder.
It was excruciating.
They needed somewhere quiet, and what better place would there be other than upstairs? The VIP lounge was practically perfect in Chance’s mind, mostly isolated other than the occasional few that would remain to themselves. They could just borrow a booth.
However, as the duo travelled up the marbled, illuminated stairs, each step feeling endless…
It was completely deserted.
Upon entering the space, it was evidently clear that there was a large gap between the main hub and the palatial lounge in terms of budget and appeal. The crystal droplets that hung from the chandelier cascaded across the room’s interior, enveloping the seating and decor in its gentle bask. The moonlight casted blissfully into the lounge through the tinted, arched windows, stars sprayed across the sky like petit angels.
The shrieking music from below had dimmed to soft vibrations, replaced with the gentle sway of jazz music, specifically produced by a vintage gramophone. A variety of redwood velvet furniture were arranged for a comfortable, private experience, alongside a few extra machines and a singular pool table. At the far end of the room, settled a slightly charred grandfather clock, its oak meticulously carved into a twist of spirals, vines and petals alike. It ticked quietly to itself, echoing across the room, hands twisted to represent past midnight.
"Perfect." Mafioso simply commented out, clearly pleased with the lack of any other presence, his hold tightening. From there, he dipped his head down close to the gambler’s, patience thinning. How long had he waited?
Days…?
weeks…?
months…?
It didn’t matter.
What mattered now was that Chance was finally in his arms. Lazily resting his chin upon the blade of his shoulder, Mafioso pressed his full weight against the slightly smaller man, slipping his arms through to encircle them comfortable around Chance’s waist. Hell, the mafia even made a small, low, “honk” vibration into the suit, his face idly resting with contentment.
Who cares about suppressing his feelings anymore?
Chance could only watch the scene unfold in astonishment however, more so focused on the soft noise produced by the man instead.
Mafioso's silken fur was close enough to brush up against his cheek, prickling the skin and leaving a tingling sensation behind. He could tell it was groomed daily, with how perfectly kempt the fluff was, as well as the hint of almonds and lime mixing together. It was almost tempting to run his fingers through the furry mass, brimming with curiosity and desire to give in and stroke them.
Then, the mafia began rubbing his chin side to side against the gambler without another word, ears now irresistibly close. Using the distance to his advantage, Mafioso's nose dragged itself up along the base to the underside of Chance's jaw leisurely with deliberateness, savoring the crisp and compelling scent. A pleased hum followed after, lulling his head to the side for more access, greedily inhaling all he could.
"You smell divine..can't get enough of it.." Mafioso whispered breathlessly, words coated in honey as he reached to Chance's ear. The other, in return, could only let out a mere shudder, gaze solely focused on the rabbit ears precariously close to his hovering hand.
“Sorry-“ Once that short, hushed and brief murmur left his lips, the pads of his fingers had avidly descended down to rake through them. Sure his actions were impulsive, he admitted, but what else could he do when such temptations were presented before him? His mere presence alone had already bewildered him when they first met, purely due to their familys' relations or business. Every time had he always secretly admired the anthropometric features, constantly yearning to question them, but was never able to find the right time to.
The muscles quivered beneath his fingers, each twitch visible as the figure before him stiffened up entirely. Following after was the hitch of a breath, chest puffed as the figure before him could only witness the sight.
Screw it.
Chance was expecting a barrage of berates, preparing and bracing himself for the incoming onslaught.
However, it never came.
Instead, the head nudged itself further into the palm eagerly, allowing his fingers to merge deeper into the soft texture. Mafioso even urged him further, nose now beginning to bury itself into the crook of his neck, allowing his fingers to drift towards the pinna. Chance’s heart stopped beating for a second, eyes flickering back and forth to meet Mafioso’s own, which had gradually become half-lidded.
“Wait, you’re allowing me to..?” Tilting his head slightly to the side in surprise, he couldn’t help but take up on Mafioso’s offer and lose himself in the feeling of his ears.
They reminded him of cotton candy.
He was awfully delicate, tracing the rim with the tip of his fingers, before gently sliding them down to the base, in which the hybrid responded with a small, satisfied noise from the back of his throat.
“Feels good when you do it..” though he rarely, if ever, let anyone touch his ears, he was more than happy to make an exception for him, giving in without putting up a fight. Tingles vibrated across his body until the gambler slid his fingers further in tentatively, sinking them down into the depths of his ears.
Mafioso visibly faltered, limbs tensing up like a wire at the sudden intrusion. Hell, he even let out a barely suppressed groan, eyes fluttering shut to melt into the current contact. Those spots were especially sensitive, causing pleasurable sparks to erupt, before burying his face completely into Chance’s neck on instinct.
Unable to control himself anymore, his tongue suddenly prodded out to lightly trace along the base, the wet heat starkly contrasting the cold skin. His heart was on fire, body acting on pure instinct as he suddenly bit down, enough to draw a trickle of blood.
The shade was beautiful to Mafioso, the crimson sap drizzling out tantalisingly, practically begging to be cleaned. The recipient, on the other hand, couldn't help but wince slightly, adrenaline pumping through his veins, hazy and lightheaded all at once. Chance's hands shot out to stabalize himself against Mafioso's, needing something desperately to hold his weight down onto in order to not collapse.
An angry bruise began to bloom across the skin, blossoming before being tended to by Mafioso's tongue, soothing it. Lapping up the blood, the tang of iron and metal invaded his taste buds, yet he didn't seem to mind at all. Once all the remnants of blood had been savoured, a tender peck was planted onto the mark.
"Not only do you smell enchanting, but you also taste delicious. Should've done this sooner." Mafioso murmured into the flesh with reverence.
"And why didn't ya? Scared?" He couldn’t help but taunt jokingly.
"Yes."
Chance stilled at that.
"I..wanted to find the right time. Wanted it to be perfect." His forehead pressed against Chance's, breathing labored as the air mingled between them.
Silence passed them for a single moment, Mafioso's eyes darting down towards Chance's lips for a brief second. His world spun at the sight.
Parted, gorgeous. God, how he yearned for them.
"Can I make it more perfect?" Was all he uttered, his tone holding a tinge of pleading.
Chance knew what that meant, his tense fingers gradually tightening their grip as he drew him closer, fingers slowly curling around the fabric.
"Show me how then." Was all Chance could get out before Mafioso dived in without a second thought.
The passion burned between them, hot sparks igniting as their lips melded together, chests pressed close to reduce all distance. The faint jazz music blurred out whilst Mafioso’s hand gently fisted into Chance’s hair, threading through the strands, fedora fallen and forgotten as he buried himself further into his lips. Swiping his tongue across the seam of Chance’s lips, eyes fluttered shut as his tongue prodded with insistence, he sought for entry. With a breathy groan, the gambler obliged hazily, allowing the mafia to explore further.
He tasted divine.
Their tongues tangled, dancing together as Mafioso pressed his weight fully down onto Chance’s, causing the shorter man to stumble back with a yelp to the pool table. Desperation had hit him like a train, lips chasing after the other’s before parting them to observe the man beneath him. A thin string of saliva connected them, splitting delicately as Chance’s eyes remained half lidded, mixed with desire and lust.
How did he ever deserve this? Him of all people?
Mafioso felt euphoric. Senses invaded. Mind clouded with thoughts of just taking him right then and there.
"Turn around."
The hushed tone sent a wave of heat through Chance, body pliant as he slowly swiveled himself around, stomach now pressed against the table to present his arched back to the mafia. It was almost impossible to see what he was doing over his shoulder, trying to get a peek, before an involuntary shiver ran through his body.
Lightly, Mafioso had traced down his index finger along the length of his spine, letting it drag along the grooves before his palm found purchase around his rear. Squeezing the mass with appreciation, a sharp inhale was drawn out from the man below, legs quivering under the firm grip. Chance’s heart was practically hammering in his throat, shoulders tense as the boiling heat crawled through his stomach, causing it to flutter.
“You’re uh..awfully greedy, don’tcha think?” His words stammered out in a somewhat haughty tone, eyes peering back, enough to see Mafioso’s.
“Don’t care. I’m making the most out of tonight.” Mafioso responded with satisfaction, kneading the muscle rougher to emphasize his words.
Then, the mafia boss leaned in, pressing his chest down against the gambler’s back as his fingers painstakingly slid towards the front of his pelvis, letting them lazily spread across the surface. Chance almost forgot how to breathe. The molten sensations coiled tighter as wet, open-mouthed kisses were strewn across the back of his neck, followed with tender nips that marked the pale flesh.
Dragging and pressing soft lips against Chance’s earlobe, Mafioso gently captured the soft tissue between them, his voice a barely audible whisper.
“I can feel your excitement, chance. Let me help relieve your tension.”
It wasn’t just an offer.
It was a silent plea.
Chance could feel it. The tight strain in his trousers. How the fabric hugged around him so painfully. He desperately needed relief and it was obvious.
Reaching down with trembling fingers, he silently guided Mafioso’s hand down towards his belt, the soft clinking of metal echoing through the air. As his trousers were dragged down enough to expose his thighs, he felt the small tug of a finger against his waistband, swift to slip off the barrier.
As soon as his cock was freed, Mafioso took his time to examine it with great interest, experimentally running his index finger against the length with a quiet hum. Chance, on the other hand, instinctively jolted, fingers gripping onto the edge of the pool table like a lifeline as a stifled whimper escaped his lips.
“Damn, you’re this sensitive?”
He didn’t even have to even look to see the devilish grin heard in his voice. Humiliation creeped up his neck in spikes, burying his face further into the fuzz before muttering back weakly.
“Just hurry up and get it done with..”
And Mafioso listened. Not before teasing him of course.
Trailing his digits back and forth the sensitive flesh, his index finger glided to the tip, smearing the glossy slick that had begun to bead across the flesh. It fascinated him. His gloved fingers continued stroking, thumb swiping across to elicit a soft groan from the trembling figure before him, like a songbird to his ears.
“Jeez, I never knew you could be such a tease…thought you’d be all cold, and harsh-“ Chance’s exasperated and slightly smug voice was instantly cut off at the force of Mafioso’s fingers curling around him entirely, slowly pumping him into blissful pleasure. Ragged breaths swirled in the air, mixing together as Chance jerked his hips forward insistently.
Friction was all he craved. Just that tiny bit would send him spiraling. However, he was cruelly denied by Mafioso, who pushed his hips firmly down to apprehend him, tutting into his ear before pressing a light kiss to it.
“None of that, alright? You’ll get your pleasure soon if you keep still. Got it?” The Mafia whispered, tone dripping with delight as he suddenly twisted his wrist, angling the upstroke just right.
Chance fought back the pained whine erupting in his throat, for both the denial and that almost brutal stroke, conceding as he forced himself still. Chance could barely even form a proper thought now, mind clouded as all he could do was feel and take, legs trembling beneath him with Mafioso showing no signs of stopping.
Another sharp twist. Followed with the glide of a thumb to the tip. Then a circular motion, producing more of that syrupy substance.
Then it left.
Chance paused. The sudden loss of warmth lead him to shudder, not wanting to admit just how much he yearned for it to come back. Twisting his head just to see what the hell Mafioso was doing, his entire brain crashed.
Mafioso was busy bringing his thumb to his lips, lewdly letting his tongue loll out as his rabbit ears twitched once more. Without a doubt was this on purpose. He began suckling at his own thumb, Chance’s eyes following the thick swallow of his throat in a daze as filthy moans left the mafia’s lips.
Slightly salty.
“The hell!? D-don’t eat that stuff!” Chance basically choked on air, flushed with complete embarrassment as he watched the man continue to devour the liquid like nothing. The sight did unthinkable things to him, the way his tongue had curled so provocatively, how the wet muscle lapped up the juices like dessert.
“I see why you enjoy taking risks now, Chance. Only makes me want more.”
It was like the liquid lit something inside of him, setting his body on fire as his fingers moved in with purpose, a sense of fulfillment taking over him. With one hand dragging itself beneath Chance’s shirt, feeling the delicate skin beneath, the other moved vigorously without warning against his cock.
A breathless sob babbled out his mouth, sparks of hot energy thrumming across his nerves as every delicious stroke of his fingers applied flawless pressure. Gradually, the movements became rougher-more frenzied, as incoherent and unsteady moans escaped the gambler’s lips, the pressure inside beginning to expand.
He couldn’t take it anymore.
“C-crap..ahh..I-I’m so close-!” His voice had completely crumbled, stuttering with desperation taking ahold as his head pressed deeper against the green felt.
Hearing that, Mafioso generously gave him his deserved reward, putting all his effort into this one last pump. Chance broke. Pleasure coursed through him in large waves, his mind turning blank as he spilled across the carpeted floor and hand.
Mafioso allowed him to ride out his waves of pleasure, continuing to idly stroke his spent length as he planted delicate kisses along the back of his neck lovingly, contrary to his searing touch.
“You did so well for me…think you can go for more?” Mafioso spoke out in a hush tone against his neck, words slightly muffled into the skin as he licked a lazy, hot stripe against Chance’s skin. This only made the gambler whimper weakly beneath, still reeling from his ejaculation as he blinked dumbly at the green fuzz, body still twitching like a broken machine.
“More..?…y-you..think I can go anymore…? You’ve gotta be crazy-“ Suddenly, the plunge of two, long digits entered his mouth, pushing past teeth to prod against his tongue, the taste of oak and Earth invading his senses. As swift as they had slipped in, they had exited his mouth, gloved fingers now coated in his glossy saliva. Leaving the man beneath breathless, Mafioso thought it would be a good idea to now investigate further into Chance’s body, wet digits dipping down to massage his hole.
“O-okay! So long as you’re gentle..ahh!” The first finger was a tight fit, the feel of leather pushing into him almost agonizing.
“Okay, do ya seriously have to use-hng-gloves??” Chance all but sneered out wearily, pulling back to trace his own fingers against the mafia’s. Mafioso blinked dumbly, murmuring out a soft “sorry..” under his breath apologetically, having idiotically let his enthusiasm take control and render him foolish.
With newfound haste, he ripped off the material with his teeth, wrapping his own tongue around his fingers before enveloping them in his own drool without another word. Though, he took a moment to admire Chance’s arched body, his stomach fluttering at the sight as he suppressed a small groan, feeling the room blur around him.
He was entranced.
Without wasting another second, he tentatively pushed a single finger in, the warm texture inside caused his mind to fizz up. He continued further, taking his time as Chance could only let out muffled moans into the fuzzy material, body still extremely sensitive from his previous climax. The feeling of his finger left him dazed, and when it curled around the tight muscle, he was barely able to let out a gasp before quivering beneath the touch.
He clenched tighter around him, in which Mafioso responded with the gentle prod of a second finger, asking for entry with desire.
All he received was a simple nod in return from the gambler, wasting no time before pushing in the second finger, letting it drag through his walls deeply. In response, Chance reflexively sucked him in, a multitude of throaty sounds escaping his parted lips. He breathed in deeply. He couldn’t even think.
Who else knew what those fingers could do.
Chance squirmed helplessly beneath his grip, knees buckling as every small thrust of those thick digits nearly sent him to the edge, his need dripping out more slick with every damnable twitch. His senses were on overdrive, mind barely intact before he suddenly felt the fingers curl.
“This the right spot?” Mafioso simply crooned out, as if merely searching for something valuable from Chance. One stroke. One singular stroke was all it took before Chance was seeing stars, a loud, rippling moan drawn out from his lips. If he abused that anymore, he would seriously spill.
Just as Chance’s toes were curling, electricity sparking through his nerves, Mafioso had ruthlessly pulled his fingers out, leaving Chance completely empty.
It took him a moment to process the loss, an uncontrolled whine leaving his lips as he glanced back at the mafia, desperate to fill that void inside him. Leaning onto the pool table for support, he tried moving himself back, only to be met with air.
“Hey! Why the hell did ya pull out?! I was so close-!” Chance barked out in annoyance and sorrow, furrowing his brows before his ears perked at the clinking sound of a metal belt. Then the sluggish, echoing sound of a zipper being tugged down.
Then he felt it. His thick girth pressing right up against his rim, threatening to dive in. Slowly, he glided his slick across, teasing the entryway before mumbling lowly into Chance’s ear.
“Ready?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, sinking himself down into the warm nerves, all the way to the hilt. A ragged moan left Mafioso’s lips, the feeling of his cock surrounded by the needy muscle, letting his head roll back in satisfaction. His body kept still, the hand beneath the shirt slipping out to steady himself against Chance’s hips, squeezing the skin tightly in pleasure.
It was overwhelming for the both of them, with Mafioso making no attempts to move just yet, allowing himself to envelop in the warmth of Chance. His cock throbbed with intense hunger, Chance able to feel every tiny jerk and vein, just desiring for him to move already.
“Please…I need it…” Chance groaned out like a prayer on his lips, grinding himself against Mafioso with plain indecency. Hell, he didn’t even care anymore. Didn’t care if he was overstimulated. Didn’t care if it was going to feel like dying in ecstasy.
Mafioso remained motionless for a moment, processing over the words that entered his ears before his grip tightened just ever so slightly.
Something in him snapped.
Those heavenly words that spilled from his lips made him want to consume him whole, to grant that plea and wreck him.
Without anymore stalling, he thrusted deep, pounding him in with such ferocity that it was completely animalistic. Burying his face into his neck, he was able to audibly hear the tunes of choked whimpers and lustful screams from the beautiful gambler.
Chance physically convulsed, filled the to brim as all he could feel were hot flashes passing through him, his body unable to comprehend the extent of such driven energy.
From there, Mafioso didn’t dare hold back, thrusting deep and hitting all the right angles in Chance, evoking a string of lewd noises from the man below who could barely hold himself up anymore. Like a feral animal had taken over him, Mafioso had wrapped his arms over Chance’s waist, lifting him off the table to and into his chest.
With this new position, he was able to pound harder, deeper, more violent into him. Even Chance didn’t know it was this possible to reach this far into himself.
Their breathless pants mingled together, Chance a shuddering mess, before Mafioso bit down rigidly into the soft junction of his neck and shoulder. A telltale sign he was close. So was Chance.
One final thrust was all they needed, before Mafioso spilled messily into him, coating his insides, before happily remaining inside for just a few more seconds. The pleasure tingled across them, Chance’s limbs twitching tiredly as he felt his lower half go numb.
“You were brilliant, amore mio..” Mafioso couldn’t help but pepper small dots of kisses across Chance’s cheeks, completely infatuated before slowly pulling out. Kept within, Chance couldn’t help but snuggle into the warm sensation enveloping his body, lulling him into relaxation before letting out a fulfilled sigh.
“Oh, and I don’t plan on having you for just tonight. Expect this to be forever.”
“…sounds fair.”
Maybe he could commit to a relationship after all.